Choice descriptive poetry, selected by a lady |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 15
Page
... hours , The carnival of birds and flowers ? Yet who would choose , however dear , That spring should revel all the year ? Who loves not summer's splendid reign , The bridal of the earth and main ? Yet who would choose , however bright ...
... hours , The carnival of birds and flowers ? Yet who would choose , however dear , That spring should revel all the year ? Who loves not summer's splendid reign , The bridal of the earth and main ? Yet who would choose , however bright ...
Page 1
... hours , The carnival of birds and flowers ? Yet who would choose , however dear , That spring should revel all the year ? Who loves not summer's splendid reign , The bridal of the earth and main ? Yet who would choose , however bright ...
... hours , The carnival of birds and flowers ? Yet who would choose , however dear , That spring should revel all the year ? Who loves not summer's splendid reign , The bridal of the earth and main ? Yet who would choose , however bright ...
Page 2
... hour , Of man's maturer age , Will shake the soul with sorrow's power , And stormy passion's rage ! O Thou , whose infant feet were found Within thy Father's shrine ! Whose years , with changeless virtue crown'd , Were all alike Divine ...
... hour , Of man's maturer age , Will shake the soul with sorrow's power , And stormy passion's rage ! O Thou , whose infant feet were found Within thy Father's shrine ! Whose years , with changeless virtue crown'd , Were all alike Divine ...
Page 8
... 'er gave , Await , alike , the inevitable hour : The paths of glory lead - but to the grave . " THE DEAD IN CHRIST SHALL RISE FIRST . " 8 Extract from an Elegy written in Poetical Portraits Country Churchyard Who Loves me Best?
... 'er gave , Await , alike , the inevitable hour : The paths of glory lead - but to the grave . " THE DEAD IN CHRIST SHALL RISE FIRST . " 8 Extract from an Elegy written in Poetical Portraits Country Churchyard Who Loves me Best?
Page 12
... hour , With all its beauty on ; But death comes like a wintry day , And sweeps the pretty flower away . LORD , what is life ? - " Tis like the bow That glistens in the sky : We love to see its colours glow , But while we look , they die ...
... hour , With all its beauty on ; But death comes like a wintry day , And sweeps the pretty flower away . LORD , what is life ? - " Tis like the bow That glistens in the sky : We love to see its colours glow , But while we look , they die ...
Common terms and phrases
angel Art Thou ask'd beauty behold beneath beneath the sky BERNARD BARTON bless blest bliss bloom breath breeze bright celestial child dead dear death deep delight DESCRIPTIVE POETRY dust to dust dwell Earth to earth earthly eternal fair Father Father's Name flood flowers glorious glory grace grave green happiest happy hath hear heart heaven heavenly holy homes of England hour humble Israel Jesus Learn to labour life's light live Lord loves me best MILLENNIAL SABBATH mountains moving heart night night into morning o'er pass'd path peace perfect bliss praise pray prayer reign rest rise round sabbath bell sacred Saviour's shine shore sleep smile song soul Speak gently spirit star by star storm stormy tempests blow strange hills sweet tear tell thee thine Thou art thought throne Thy neighbour toil tomb trees Twas voice
Popular passages
Page 73 - O Caledonia ! stern and wild, meet nurse for a poetic child, • land of brown heath and shaggy wood, land of the mountain and the flood, land of my sires!
Page 33 - But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white, then melts forever; Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place ; Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm. Nae man can tether time or tide ; The hour approaches Tam maun ride; That hour, o...
Page 34 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal ; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Page 37 - Abide with me from morn till eve, For without Thee I cannot live ; Abide with me when night is nigh, For without Thee I dare not die.
Page 43 - They sin who tell us love can die. With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. In heaven ambition cannot dwell, Nor avarice in the vaults of hell; Earthly these passions of the earth, They perish where they have their birth. But love is indestructible— Its holy flame for ever burneth ; From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.